


Bliss

by mother_hearted



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bodily Fluids, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Sopor Slime, Timeline Ambiguity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-08
Updated: 2011-05-08
Packaged: 2017-10-19 03:33:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_hearted/pseuds/mother_hearted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You let him feed it to you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bliss

**Author's Note:**

> A short tale of mood altering substances, the hemospectrum, and flushed feelings. Equius p.o.v.

You let him feed it to you.

The sopor slime is lukewarm and gooey, clinging to his fingers and sticking under his long nails.

You had said no before, in a polite manner-able way befitting of someone as blue-blooded as yourself. No, because it was not meant to be eaten. No, because it was not meant for recreational activities. No, because it was a gosh darned stupid idea but you're on your hands and knees because his wide smile stretched the make-up wider across his face and made him look even more foolishly demented and

he told you to.

Orders, direct and absolute, from the highblood are rare and your throat had clenched, palms sweating before you slid down onto the floor, at his feet where you belong and you couldn't stop shivering, no matter how hot the room had suddenly gotten.

Your mouth is a mess, opened wide to keep your jagged teeth from cutting his fingers while they press in. Two, three, then four, keeping you open and the slime that doesn't slip off and down the back of your throat you have to lick off. Your tongue moves clumsily, the sopor makes it feel so heavy and he laughs, that honking wheezing laugh of his when you finally finish and he pulls back, gives you more, shoves his fingers deeper into your mouth, to the back of your throat and you groan. Your mouth is too full, too full of his fingers and slime and your own saliva, pooling under your tongue and you rock forward on your hands, pressing him in deeper.

He makes a noise above you, one you can't decipher but he's flushed a magnificent purple from his cheeks to his neck.

You can't touch him and being on your hands and knees on the floor reminds you you can't no matter what. You can't touch him, can only beg for him to touch you, to press your tongue up against his fingers, rock yourself forward and lunge his fingers in deeper, a pitiful croon in the back of your throat when he begins to fuck your mouth with his fingers unprompted.

When it is later, you will be appalled and disgusted by the noises you make, all of your undignified begging because while he is your better, your superior; you are still blue blood and you are more than the beasts that keen and whine when touched but everything is sweet and soft and warm, the sopor has you running high and you can't find it in yourself to scold yourself. It feels too good, below him as he opens your mouth, your throat, nails scratching at the tender flesh but you don't stop him.

Drool mixed with slime streams from your mouth. Lips and chin, messy and sticky, it trickles down your neck, staining your top and he can see you, this filthy unforgivable mess as you pant, jaw quivering and the urge to bite down slams through you. You could taste him, purple and sweet and his knuckles press right up against the roof of your mouth and it would be so easy and he would punish you, for your debauchery, your insolence, your indecency.

You're harder than you've ever been before, your skin prickling hot but not as hot as your cock feels, trapped inside your pants but you make no move to shift your hips, spread your knees, you want to feel it keep building, more and more and you want more, you want his whole fist until you choke but even that won't be enough and your breath hitches, so boldly wanting and you look up at him.

He looks blessed out and he grins when he sees your eyes and suddenly you want his pity, you want pity for every bone in your body, every bulging muscle, every bead of sweat that drenches you and you're flushed, so painfully flushed for him and it doesn't matter how blue blooded you are, how strong you are, or how many inferiors you have.

Gamzee Makara is your better and you want to give him everything, want him to take everything and leave you feeling used and spent.

When he removes his hand you beg again, you beg for _more_ , jaw already sore, _more please,_ and he stares at you until he gets it, looks delighted and, _FuCk MoThErFuCk YeAh_.

His own bulge is just as hard, head a dark purple crown and you open your mouth even wider than before, feel him slip in in one motion. Heavy and hard on your tongue, you feel him in the back of your throat and you clench around him softly, wet noises coming out of you and he slides back in and out, in and out, and when he grips the back of your neck with his hands, thrusts in hard you come, trembling, sounds muffled by his cock.

You feel your own hot splashes of come and he doesn't last much longer, his taste sharp and it fills your mouth. He pulls out and you almost chase after him but he keeps you in place and you shiver again as you swallow. You feel raw, use and scrapped out and it's good, the kind of good you whisper to yourself about and he drags you down with him, smiling that too wide, too high smile and by his side, head maneuvered onto his shoulder.

You stay where you belong.


End file.
